“You bastards!” Lisa yelled.
Martin hit the desk out of frustration before he stepped out. Lewis had pushed Lisa back and held her against the wall. He had his pistol out and in his hand. The security door was open. A soldier dragged the body of Sarah Johnson who worked in city planning for three mayors. Her head left a trail of blood along the carpet.
“Calm down!” Lewis told Lisa over and over.
“Lewis!” Martin yelled. “That’s her best friend!”
Lisa fell to the floor crying. She irrationally pounded at Lewis’s feet. “You killed her!”
Just like that Sarah’s body was gone and the door slammed shut. Martin was stunned, unable to process a shooting in the mayor’s office. Martin’s eyes glanced to the mayor’s personal office, the door was still shut. He didn’t come out. Shea from FEMA walked into the main office area, his pistol out.
“She was infected.” Lewis spun, holding the pistol high. “There is no cure. Once they have it in their brain, they’re gone already.”
“What about Chuck and the other staff we sent down to the tenth floor?”
Lisa sobbed. “He killed them.”
“And everyone one of you should thank me for it.”
Shea stepped forward. “None of us woke up this morning expecting to be ground zero in an ecological disaster.”
“If we are going to survive, we have to make tough calls,” Lewis said as he holstered his weapon. Shea and Lewis walked back to the conference room. Lewis pulled the door shut.
City Hall was down to Martin, a sobbing Lisa and stunned looking Mitchell from tech. Mitchell leaned over the blood stain on the carpet. Martin stood over him.
“Where is the mayor?” Mitchell whispered.
“Mitchell, I need you to get me a signal. We need to make an SOS.”
Mitchell stood up and was close enough for Martin to smell his breath. “This isn’t Star Trek. I can’t pull a solution out of my ass. The mainframe is on the 10th floor of the NBC building.”
“Why there?”
“Universal, the parent copy, sponsored the towers. Everybody who used it got NBC pop-up ads during Comic-Con weekend.”
Martin nodded. “Good, that is only a few blocks away.”
“I’m not going out there.”
“We need that signal.”
“Have you heard the gunfire? The screams?” Mitchell shook his head. “I’ll give you instructions, but I’m not going out there.”
Martin couldn’t order him to do it; it was not worth the risk.
“How long would it take you to write out the directions? For a total idiot?”
“Half an hour, maybe.”
Martin waved him off. Mitchell took off to his office. Martin leaned against the wall and slid to the floor. He pulled Lisa close to him. She sobbed into his shirt.
“I’m sorry about Sarah.” Martin put her head under his chin. “We have half an hour to craft a statement.”
Just then the lights flickered in the building. Then darkness. It lasted less than five seconds, but enough, the air conditioning stopped and the machine had to kick up. The clock plugged into the desk across from him was flashing 12:00. Not the power, thought Martin. Please stay on he prayed. Please answer this one.
***
It was a strange feeling, like floating through a cloud. At times Scott couldn’t even see the freeway under his bike. He worried about steaming up his gas mask. It was a scary ride, sometimes he just had a second to swerve and avoid cars that were left behind on the road. The sound of screams from the city and gunfire were louder as he got closer in. He almost missed the exit to the 805 freeway that took him up the steep hill toward his brother’s neighborhood.
The bike struggled with the incline, Scott grit his teeth trying to will the bike up out of Mission Valley. A day ago this was a total of ten lanes between each direction. Scott twisted the handle control to push the small engine to its limit. It took a few moments, but he could loosen a bit as he pushed upwards. As he got close to the top, a higher wind broke up the smoke a bit. He could see cars piled on the right shoulder, several were in flames.
Scott turned back to the road and cursed. A wall of several dozen cars were piled together in an impromptu junk yard in the center of the 805 south. Scott had to turn and slide the bike to avoid crashing into it. He had to stop.
He rolled the bike on to its kickstand and jumped off. The motor continued to sputter. He was nervous to turn it off, afraid that it might never come back on. Scott climbed on the hood of a car and looked down the freeway. He couldn’t see very far but cars were smashed in every inch of the freeway. Doors left open, windows broken out. The car in front of him had bullet holes in the passenger side door. The window was smashed.
He saw the ramp to the nearest exit. Adams Ave in Kensington. That would get him close to Jake and Victoria’s house. He would have less than a mile at most to travel on surface streets. He looked for a way around the pileup to get to the exit.
Scott got back on the bike and sped around the crash, he was glad the bike was designed for off road as he had to plow through the brush a bit before bouncing back on the road. He sped up the exit and cursed as he headed through the smoke right into a military checkpoint. It faded into view like a specter forming in the haze.
Two Humvees sat nose to nose under the flashing red stoplight blocking Adams Ave. Half a dozen soldiers in gas masks ran at him with rifles raised. Scott twisted the break and put his hands up.
“Whoa, whoa don’t shoot!”
The soldiers stopped within his visibility, but the flashing stoplight and the vehicles looked ghostly in the haze. Scott looked for a name on the uniform but couldn’t make one out.
“What in the fucking hell are you doing out here?” the closest soldier’s muffled voice came through the mask.
Scott could see the soldier just behind him, shook enough to rattle his rifle. Scott had planned what to say since he left. Now was the time to test his bullshit ability.
“My name is Jeremy Long.” He used his college football coach’s name. “I’m a scout with FEMA here on orders from General Redcrow.”
The soldiers looked at each other. The closest one lowered his rifle.
“Sorry, sir, we’re a little fried right now. General sent you?”
Scott nodded. The two young soldiers shared a look.
“Ain’t nobody supposed to be out here,” said Scaredy Cat.
“You need to call General Redcrow, because he is too busy just to confirm my orders at every goddamn checkpoint. Look at my equipment.”
“It’s OK, sir.” The closer soldier slung his rifle this time.
Relief came over Scott. He looked back at the freeway, invisible now under the haze.
“What the hell happened here?”
“Just before the state of emergency the smoke was so thick at the top everyone that came over the hill went smack into the pileup. Good thing they were driving slow.”
The scared soldier lowered his rifle finally. “Didn’t matter, tons of ‘em went feral.”
“We got as many of them as we could, but some made it into the neighborhood. You ain’t going in there are you, sir?”
Scott thought about how to answer that. He had to get past this checkpoint, but these men seemed willing to talk.
“How many ferals can I expect in North Park?”
The scared soldier grunted under his mask. “They’re everywhere, man.”
“They’re dangerous, but dumb as shit. That is why they pound on the doors and scream, they can’t get out.”
“Sarge says they are so hungry they will bite your fucking arm off.” The fear in this young man’s eyes shined through the visor on his mask.
“You should have a rifle, sir. Shoot-to-kill orders for a reason.”
“I’m good.” Scott gave a pat to the pistol on his hip. He didn’t want to push it and ask if they had a rifle to spare. “But I really gotta get moving.”
One of the soldiers turn
ed and waved. The Humvee on the right roared to life and pulled closer to the curb. It was enough for Scott to slip through just as he was about to take off.
“Don’t let those fucking things bite you. It goes south really fucking quick.”
Scott gave a salute and drove through. He pulled out on to Adams, a street he remembered being busy. The screams were louder than he had heard since he was face to face with the ferals. He knew they were beyond the haze. They filled his thoughts with dread. Could they smell him? How wild were they?
***
When they peeled out a blue tooth speaker blared, “let the bodies hit the floor,” Austin always hated that song. After a few miles they turned down the music. The sound of gunfire and feral screams increased as they drove. Every moment they moved it was like a volume knob being slowly turned up. Austin had no sense of time. Everything seemed to move at a long and torturous pace while being tied up. The noise of battle and chaos increased as Jase and Ambrose were getting amped up. Ambrose kept hitting his chest trying to will them closer to the battle.
“Watch for friendly fire,” Osborne called from the front. “Lots of live fire.” The soldiers both secured the gas masks over their faces.
The Humvee came to a stop and the door was already open. The smoke was not as thick as the east side, but Austin felt relief when Jase slammed the door shut. Osborne was a little slower to get his mask on but he left her alone. The roar of machine gun fire was everywhere. She could no longer hear the ferals. It sounded like a dozen thunderstorms colliding. She wanted to desperately plug or cover her ears.
Austin screamed. She went to the window and looked out. It was the Harbor downtown. They were on the road that led to the airport. The machine gun fire tapered off. The soldiers walked the docks and shot ferals, knocking others into the bay.
Now she heard the helicopters, two of them hanging above the harbor. They were tipped toward the water. Austin gasped when she saw the fire coming for the gunships. It was faint through the haze but she saw boats in the bay burning like candle wicks.
They were stopping the boats, destroying them before they could escape. She watched the helicopters picking off sailboats and smaller cruisers one after another. One of the soldiers turned back from the dock and came back toward her. In the gas mask she couldn’t tell who it was, but they were running, wanting to get back to her quick.
“Shit!”
Austin spun looking for something she could use as a weapon. The problem was still the arms behind her back. The door swung open. She jumped back prepared to kick when the mask came off. It was Osborne. He was breathing heavy from the run. He lifted a knife.
Austin stared at the knife and down to the man’s balls. Damn it, she thought. He was the one I trusted.
“You gotta get out here quick.” He motioned for her to turn around.
She did and felt overwhelmed with relief when she felt his blade working on cutting the zip-ties. He worked slowly and carefully not wanting to cut her wrist.
“They’re killing all the people on those boats,” Austin yelled at him.
The zip-ties snapped apart. Austin rolled her shoulders and felt the relief of having her arms in a natural position. She would ache for days, but now she just wanted to get away.
“They’ve got no choice. They can’t let ferals escape the city.”
Austin grabbed her gas mask and backpack. “So they just murder them?”
“They might as well be dead. No cure.”
Austin stopped at the door handle. “Thank you, honestly.” She slid her gas mask back on. She pushed the door open. She jumped back into the thick foul air. It was further to the ground than she expected, and her legs were wobbly. She heard a solider in the distance yelling.
“Hey, no! What the fuck?”
It was probably Ambrose seeing his prize escaping. His voice was distorted by the gas mask.
She made her way around the front of the Humvee and ran as fast as she could. Haze engulfed her and for the first time she was happy about it. The feeling of running into the acrid cloud was a comfort for the first time.
Ambrose ran after her. She could hear him. He had his mask off yelling.
“Come back, baby!”
She followed the yellow line down the middle of the road for a city block. She could see the empty remains of the county building. It was the closest to the harbor. The lights of the building were like a beacon. She ran toward them, the only thing cutting the darkness. The street lights flickered and the night became impossibly dark. The power was gone and it was like a black hole appeared around her.
“I’ll treat you right, baby, come back!” Ambrose kept yelling.
She had no idea where anything was, or how far away he could be. She ran and waved her hand in front of her hoping she didn’t run into anything.
“Come on, sweetheart.” Ambrose coughed. She hoped he never put the mask back on. He was further away, she hoped he stopped chasing. Austin kept running in the darkness. The lights came back on in the buildings, glowing through the haze the beacon was back. She would have to cross downtown to get to Robbins.
The screams echoed between the buildings. Gunfire in all directions. She had no choice but to run towards it all.
***
Andrew felt the need to stop twice. It was only two blocks, but his shirt was not enough of a filter. His lungs heaved and he coughed trying to eject the nasty air. He had the thought years from now I’m going to pay for the air I breathed on this day. The sound of ferals and the gunfire across the city kept him going. Sometimes minutes would pass without the gunfire but the screams never stopped.
He heard the desperate screams coming from the homes of people who had been his neighbors before Kristen kicked him out. He heard it from more homes than he could count. Illness had swept the neighborhood. He remembered what the young reporter had said about shoot-to-kill orders and the lack of a cure. It was as much madness as illness. This street had been his home for five years and he was scared for the first time to walk along it.
They were too young when they got married and bought this house. Three bedrooms, with space to grow. Kristen was pregnant and catholic. Despite it being the 21st century, he was never given a choice. They were going to marry. He thought it was a bad idea, but kept his mouth shut to the altar. In the end, he wouldn’t trade Adam for anything, even the awful divorce that he was going through. He loved his little boy.
He knew he was the jerk of the marriage, but damn it he loved his son and wanted to see him every day. It wasn’t until the world began ending around him that he could see how bad his behavior was. He had used Adam against her. He had used her weight and self-esteem issues to keep her around. Convinced her that she couldn’t do better. Then he went and fucked a co-worker. He was the jerk. He understood the hatred she felt for him.
He stepped onto the end of the driveway. The smoke was thick enough to obscure the house. The glow of the light came from the living room. As he walked onto the porch he tensed up. He was afraid to hear them scream. He didn’t know what he would do if he heard Adam or Kristen scream. Her car was still parked there, so they were inside.
He stopped in the bushes and lifted up the little frog statue, same one he had at his childhood home. The key was where he left it, when this was his house. Now he was going to find out if she had the locks changed. He pushed the key in and the deadbolt turned over with a snap. He knocked on the door, and waited a few seconds to push it open.
“Kristen? It’s me Andy.”
He opened the door slowly. The living room was a mess. Adam’s toys were strewn everywhere. That was not typical. Kristen the neat freak normally followed behind him picking up. Andrew kicked toys out of the way to create a path.
“Kristen? Adam?”
He heard banging upstairs. It sounded like a herd of something was rumbling down toward him. Andrew tensed up before he saw his son running down the stairs with arms out.
“Dad!”
It was the best hu
g of his life. Andrew scooped him up and squeezed. Adam cried on his shoulder.
“I’m here, bud, I’m here.”
“I’m scared, Daddy. Mommy is sick and nothing works.”
Andrew saw the TV was on just with a bouncing no signal. He held his son as he walked toward the kitchen. The light was off, but in the glow from the living room he could see legs on the floor. Kristen was not moving.
His son whispered in his ear. “Mommy told me to stay away.”
He lowered Adam to the ground. “How long has she been like this?”
Adam shrugged. “She didn’t want me downstairs.”
Andrew smiled, trying to give fake assurance to his son. “Go upstairs and pack a bag. Get your blankie, some clothes, socks and underwear. OK? ”
He nodded and ran up the stairs. Andrew stood up straight and took a deep breath. As mad as he had been at her, he didn’t want to see this. He stepped into the kitchen. Kristen leaned up against a cabinet, her chest heaving. Andrew flipped on the light. She cringed and looked away.
She held a half empty glass of water. Andrew leaned over her in a catcher’s stance. She smelled bad. She was sweating out of every pore. Andrew got a whiff of it and reflexively turned away. She slowly turned back to him and opened her eyes. They burned a painful looking red and yellow.
“Oh, Kris, I’m sorry.”
She hissed. She spoke in such a whisper he almost didn’t hear her. “I’m so thirsty.”
“Kris, you weren’t supposed to drink the water.”
He pulled the water glass out of her hand. He held it toward the light. He could see floaties even with the naked eye. She reached up to his arm.
“I’m so thirsty, give it back.”
Andrew shook his head.
“Give it back!” she yelled and used all her strength. She fell back against the cabinet.
Andrew put the glass on the counter out of her reach.
“I’m taking Adam.”
She tried to speak but she couldn’t form words. Tears welled up, a pink fluid streamed down her face. She shook her head.
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